Identity
by Tula Chan
Summary: Just after TLG. Artemis's legacy has a profound effect on his brothers' futures. Recent events introduced Myles Fowl to the realm of the fey. For the sake of his brother, he becomes tangled in the affairs of the Underland and in conspiracy.
1. Chapter 1: Introduction

Book 1

Ten's Guardian

Chapter 1

An Introduction of Clay

Dublin Shopping Complex in December: Swelteringly overcrowded by anyone's standards. Needless to say, Myles Fowl would not have been willing to put up with such crowds if something extremely important had not been at stake. Important for his brother.

Juliet Butler forged a path through the crowds. The tall woman with a long braid tied on a jade ring and glittering makeup did not look particularly dangerous. Yet, faced with her gaze, shoppers parted as readily as water. "I'm supposed to be a bodyguard. You know that, correct?" Juliet tugged a small boy with raven hair and a gaze sharper than her own by the hand.

" 'Course I do. The Butlers have a reputation as bodyguards." Myles replied, slightly indignant at having to grasp Juliet's strong hand.

Juliet replied, equally indignant. "Then why are we at the mall? I like shopping as much as the next girl, but a bodyguard-nanny is useless in these conditions."

"I already said why 's necessary. We need to pick up a package," the boy responded, hissing because of a pair of absent teeth at the front of his mouth.

"And?"

"And," Myles sighed, "my package couldn't be delivered to the manor. The surveillance system would have video records. Ever since that incident with the pudding launcher, Artemis blocked my access to the surveillance tapes."

This response earned a raised eyebrow. "A pudding launcher?"

"Beckett stole my trebuchet," he responded, again hissing slightly, "Artemis was caught in the crossfire, and I copied the tape."

Myles watched Juliet's expression. A spark of amusement crossed her sharp features, but quickly disappeared. "I promise," he said as she opened her mouth, "I am not hiding anything from my parents. I ordered a Christmas present for Beck. If it was delivered, he'd force me to tell him what it is. It prob'ly wouldn't end well for me."

Juliet didn't respond. The Fowl boys were too smart for their own good. The eldest had already become involved in an array of international affairs, grand thefts, and supernatural occurrences. The younger two, pushed by mutual competitiveness and guided by Artemis Fowl, were showing a propensity for ingenuity at an ever-younger age. Beckett was more crude and physical of the two, yet, as a bodyguard, Juliet recognized his cunning.

Myles still held a tiny smirk when the unlikely pair reached their destination "A bookstore?" Juliet questioned. "You said you ordered a gift for Beckett. As you should remember, he pressed spiders in the last book Arty gave him."

"My reasonin' exactly." Myles then produced a rumpled square of paper from the pocket of his slacks. "Here. This confirms my order."

Juliet took the proffered paper. "Are you sure Beck won't tear out the pages for target practice?"

"Please, jus' bring my form to the guest services counter. I-" Myles coughed, "-can't reach."

Juliet swallowed her own smirk. Myles and Beckett were twin brothers. The former stood at ninety seven centimeters while the latter a hundred and twelve. To say the least, Myles never heard the end of it. Right now, for example, Juliet responded with a falsely sweet tone. "As you wish, young master." Juliet did not miss the slight twitch of the boy's eyebrows.

Striding toward the desk, she said, "I'm here to pick up a package."

The tired woman at _guest services_ took the printed form with a plastered smile. "Just a moment while I confirm your order." Her poorly lacquered fingers punched away at a keyboard Myles could not see.

Just over a moment later, the woman looked up from her computer screen. Her smile dripped from her face. "Can you confirm your order, eh, Mr. Fowl?" she asked Juliet.

Once again, Myles was the one smirking. He drew the plastic card initially used in the order and handed it to Juliet. "Certainly. That would be _Master_ Fowl, if you will."

The woman leaned forward to get a better view of Myles before accepting the credit card from Juliet. She barely glanced at the card before diving to the shelf under the counter. An embarrassed flush tinged her cheeks as she resurfaced. "Here you are, Miss. Have a good afternoon."

Juliet strode from the bookstore with a brown box in one hand and a boy dragged along by the other. Unfortunately for said boy, _dragged_ was all too literal.

"Are you tryin' to separate my humerus from 's socket?"

Myles soon wished he hadn't spoken. Juliet stopped and pulled the boy into a fireman's hold, then assumed an even faster pace. Myles pounded a fist against her broad shoulder. "Jules, put me down."

"Fine." After complying, Juliet took a breath to speak again.

"And, yes, I know what you're thinking," Myles injected, "Anyone that knows you could say you are currently displeased 'cause that clerk is a civilian, and one cannot challenge a civilian for any dumb insult." Myles paused and quirked his head to the side, as if listening to her thoughts.

Juliet frowned. "I'm not _that_ easy to read, otherwise I would lose against any formidable wrestlers. They would predict my moves."

"My reasonin' exactly," Myles repeated.

"_Sure_, Myles. We should get going. At the heart of a crowd in the mall is _not_ a secure location."

Myles lifted the silver watch on his wrist. "Actually, I would be safer if we waited here for two minutes and forty five seconds."

Juliet flashed an eyebrow at the boy, a rather common expression for her these days. "Care to explain why two minutes and forty five seconds?"

"Well," Myles began in a patronizing tone. Juliet grabbed his wrist, leaving a smudge on his meticulously polished watch, and started walking. Myles continued even as he was tugged along. "The public bus was scheduled to arrive four minutes ago. Do to fluc-choo-ate-ing schedules, the passengers on the bus may unload precisely as we walk by."

"…So?"

"You said yourself that you are more concerned about bein' caught in the crossfire of an armed robbery than a deliberately targeted attack, unless we're with Artemis," the boy hissed through his missing teeth.

"And you think a thief will take a bus, rob a store, run, and then wait around to board the bus again?"

" 'Course not. Tha's ridiculous. The dumb thief that is actually robbing a mall isn't a professional, and they won't be able to properly mix with the crowd waiting for the bus. They'll try to park their car behind the bus so the plate isn't picked up on the security cameras, and bet against all the witnesses on the bus catchin' them. Which is a terrible bet to make, I might add."

"That's ridiculous, Myles. You sound more paranoid than Arty." Though the detail of the theory concerned her all over again. Would Myles follow in Artemis's path?

"…You're right. The chances against our presence during the robbery are astronomical. Give me a minute to form a more likely scenario that will prevent you from dragging me all the way to the Bentley."

Juliet ignored the request, but only dragged Myles to the glass doors of the shopping complex.

"Why'd we stop? We're almost out of this wretched place."

Juliet didn't answer directly. "There is the late bus. What kind of car did you say would by hanging in its shadow?"

"I didn't. Even someone with my depth of foresight cannot predict precisely what rusty old model of vehicle a petty criminal will drive."

"Then we have to go." Juliet hefted the stubborn boy over her shoulder a second time. The woman broke into a flat sprint for the lot. Less than ten seconds passed before she shoved Myles into the backseat of the Bentley. "Buckle. Now."

Usually, Myles would have given her a most scything remark about his booster seat before complying. Today, Juliet Butler had that look in her eye. "Yessir." Well, maybe he would still make time to be a little patronizing.

The second wasted was a mistake. Juliet threw the vehicle into gear and slammed into reverse. Myles was nearly thrown out of his seat and bumped his head. Fortunately, Juliet had to shift the car to drive, and Myles was allowed a moment to find a buckle. "Why the rush?" he asked, trying to sound as if he was not recently bashed against the seat back. He still hissed the 'sh' around his teeth.

"Do you see it? A rusty Toyota, hiding behind the bus. Just like you said."

"Jules, I told you. The chances against the scenario are astronomical. You're overreacting, and you smudged my watch more."

Juliet's voice turned unusually dark. "Myles, even you do not know how many times I have been put against incredible odds like this. From Artemis, I've come to rely on theories like the one you presented to me. I feel you Fowls are always ten steps ahead."

Myles seemingly dismissed her serious tone, and picked a frivolous detail from her statement. "Ten steps? I am ten _miles_ ahead of the average four year old boy. Beck, perhaps, is closer to ten _steps_ of average." Myles craned his neck to see Juliet's expression in the rearview mirror as she sped down the street. The light joke on Beckett's behalf did not have the effect it normally would. "I can't tell what you're thinking about, Jules. Personality- obviously, I know you like the back of my calculator. Body language- your tight shoulders are also obvious. That leaves a question of context. Does this have to do with your comment about Artemis?"

Juliet spared a moment to mentally slap herself. Artemis had a lot of secrets that weren't his to keep. It was not her place to even imply they existed, especially not to one of his astute, nosy little brothers. It was time to change the topic. "You certainly are ten miles ahead. Ten _Myles_, it suits you."

"Don't change the topic. What aren't you telling me?"

Juliet nearly growled. "So, you got Beck a book for Christmas. Have you got anything for Arty yet?"

Myles sighed. "Changing the subject? Usin' sloppy grammar to get my attention? Smart. I'll let it go." Myles flashed a sharp smile reminiscent of his teenage brother in question. "For now. And no, I don' have a present for Arty."

- _Ten's Guardian_ -

Myles waltzed into the grand hall of the castle-mansion hybrid like he owned it. Well, his family did. Fowl Estate covered a large piece of lovely green land dotted by old oaks and young rowans on the outskirts of Dublin, Ireland. Myles liked to think of it as a fort out of a fairy tale occupied by knights with shining swords and gleaming armour. Of course, there were actual suits of armour standing as part of the décor in the halls, alongside old tapestries. Then, there was the array of weapons kept in the manor by the Butlers, but they were in lock-up. Myles frowned. The weapons lock-up was the one room in the fort he had not managed to break into, but how to get past the gel print scanner combined with a keypad?

"Myles, I don't like that expression. Devious is written all over your face," Juliet interrupted his line of thought.

Myles waved her off. "Where's Arty?"

"I wouldn't know. I just got home from the mall. Like you," she quipped dryly.

"Oh well. I have to speak to Beckett first. Will you bring my book to my room for me?"

"Alright." Juliet cast him a suspicious glance. "I'm heading to the gym after."

Myles watched her go, then held his hand up as if tickling the air. One by one, he ticked of seconds on his fingers. Precisely when he formed a fist, a dirt-caked, blonde boy bolted around the corner. "Myles!" Beckett exclaimed.

" 'Lo, Beck! I'm back from the bookstore."

Beckett held out his hand. "Look at the cricket I caught! 'S huge!" The cricket was flailing madly between both of the boy's hands.

Myles cringed, then silently scoffed himself. His squeamishness around any small, wriggling creatures was not completely irrational, yet made him feel quite childish. Although, the cricket in question wasn't exactly a small creature. "Beck, where exactly did you catch a cricket the size of a mouse?"

"The crickets are in the grass all around the manor."

_I hope I don't find that in my lab later, or my bed, or my trousers._ Myles cringed again, remembering the many beetles, mice, and snakes that soiled his clean laundry and ruined his experiments, courtesy of Beckett. Aloud he said, "I have fresh clay in my room. Do you want to make sculptures?"

"Still don't like art or crafts. Thought you don't like art, too."

" 'S not jus' art. You can…" Myles scrambled for an idea to convince Beckett to go along with his rudimentary plan. "You can make a mold of your cricket."

" 'Kay. Beck'll tell Artemis to make molds. You hold Hopper."

Myles squealed as the insect was shoved in his face. Swallowing, he accepted the creature. Its sharp feet poked into his soft hands. "I'll take good care of… Hopper."

Beckett smiled warmly. "She's not scary, Myles." Then he left.

Myles ran for his lab, otherwise known as the east half of his bedroom, as fast as his legs would allow. Panting, he shoved _Hopper_ in an insect cage and furiously wiped his hands on his trousers. Myles stared unhappily at the cage before turning to his cupboards. He had to dig to find the clay in the back. It was not nearly as fresh as he had suggested to Beckett. Myles started to leave with the bag of clay in one hand and insect cage in the other. A thought caught him in the doorway. Artemis had once tried to explain severe remorse to him. A heavy topic for even adults, Artemis transliterated it to the vocabulary of four year as accurately as he could. Lying, stealing, and hurting others would make you feel bad for a long time and could even drive one beyond madness, Arty had said. Breaking into the weapons lockup wasn't hurting anyone and, as long as no one asked about his intentions, he wasn't lying. All the same, something felt slightly off.

Myles found Artemis in the lounge with Beckett. "I have clay!" he greeted.

Artemis was very similar to Myles between appearance and mannerisms, the former's love of art was not shared by the latter. He greeted, or didn't greet, his young brother in an identical fashion. "Clay, one of many apparatuses for an artist to choose from. However, I was under the impression that you favor mathematics and science over art."

Myles interpreted this as a question and answered, "I do, but, as you said, art can assist in developin' the organized and flex-uh-bull mind of a scientist." The line was nearly an exact quote. Artemis smiled but did not have an opportunity to respond.

Beckett shot across the room. "Hopper! Why is she in a cage?"

"Um," Myles said, "I didn't wanna drop her and step on her."

"Step on her?" Beckett echoed, horrified. "That's not very nice."

"My reasonin' exactly."

"We should begin, if you care for me to sculpt with you," Artemis said, "I ought to leave before long."

"Leave?" Beck crowed, "Where to? Can Beckett come with?"

Myles carried the cricket cage and clay to the heavy, antique coffee table. "I am curious as well. Our mother and father left for London a few days ago. You wish to leave us with Juliet?"

"First of all," Myles heard Artemis behind him, "You cannot attend, Beckett. I merely have another appointment with the doctor. You may feel consoled by the strong possibility that this is my final appointment."

Myles eyes widened and his thoughts stirred. Now he understood the pang of emotion he felt. Concealing his intention to enter the weapons room and potentially steal a jian or a pike for Beck didn't cause him any remorse at all. Whatever had caused Artemis's _condition,_ his unique neurosis, must have been worse tenfold. Myles' own brother was hiding something terrible from him, and Juliet knew. Artemis's old bodyguard, Butler, probably knew. Their parents, Artemis Senior and Angeline Fowl, likely knew as well.

Beckett spoke again. "Means roaches to me, Arty. Bet you're still as loose headed as the guys in that American cop show."

Suddenly, the room seemed to be spinning around Myles. He braced himself against the coffee table. On a split decision, he decided to go ahead with his plan. He didn't want to pursue the topic at hand anymore. He trusted his family. Myles regained his composure before turning back to his brothers. "We don't want you to be late, Arty. Here." He grabbed two lumps of clay and pressed them into his brothers' hands. Then, he reached for his own material and, in a moment of calculated clumsiness, he knocked over the cage.

The freed cricket sprang towards Myles. For a moment, he genuinely screamed, and then deliberately flinched backwards into Artemis. "It's after me!" Myles yelled and divided to the floor. He snatched the clay that fell from Artemis's hand upon collision. "It's a man-eating cricket!" Myles ran from the room as quickly as he could without squishing the clay. Artemis and Beckett gazed mirthfully at the retreating figure of their brother. Neither boy suspected the response was staged.

Myles entered his lab a second time with a triumphant grin no one could see, though his victory did not hold the foul mix of emotions from his mind for long. Carefully, he tucked away the clay, though most of the fingerprints pressed in its surface had been squished when the clay fell to the floor. Mind full, he collapsed on his bed. He was curious about Juliet's words and her reaction to her slip, as usual. He was also certain his guess was correct. There were secrets watchfully held in the Fowl Manor.

Eventually, a light tap on the door pulled Myles from his stupor. He rose from the mattress and stood over a jumbled mass of electronics on his table. "Come in."

Artemis entered, wearing a strange expression. He sounded slightly off as he spoke. "Have you been in your lab this whole time?"

Myles steadily held his gaze on the table. "Yes. I've been workin' with my wiring."

"Ah." Artemis stepped closer, just across the narrow table from Myles. "I have to leave now. I'll see you again in a day. And remember…" Artemis leaned across the table and lightly tapped the center of Myles' forehead, where the third eye, the center of wisdom and knowledge, was said to rest. "Trust your intellect."

Myles finally looked his brother in the eye. He spoke more coldly then he intended. "What did you do?"

Artemis pulled away from him and arched an eyebrow. "I am unsure what you refer to, as I have done nothing to cause you distress." With a final goodbye, he fled.

Myles returned his gaze to the mass of wires, microchips, and a pair of headphones. They were part of a disassembled surveillance kit. The other part was hidden in Beck's room, in the one place it wouldn't be found- where Beck put it himself. Myles didn't intend to be caught off guard by the blonde boy, but it appeared he had something more significant to learn about now. His other sibling- his all-knowing mentor and great guardian- was also a liar. He shoved the wires in his pocket.

Myles rejoined Beckett in the lounge. The boy held his cricket once again. "Finally caught Hopper."

"Don't lose your grip on it now. What happened to all the clay?" The clay in question was spread across the coffee table and adjacent floor.

"Hopper doesn't like dumb clay. She kicks it when Beck wants to mold her."

"You could try to stun it," Myles suggested, "Hand soap stuns some insects." Myles kept soap in his lab for precisely that reason.

"I can stun her," Beckett concurred, "without washing her." He raised the clay sodden cricket between his hands, flicked one wrist, and snapped its head to the side with a sickening crunch.

"Ewww!" Myles responded eloquently, "You killed it!"

"…So? Myles don' even like bugs." Beckett began wrapping clay around the tiny cadaver.

"You named it and spoke to it like a pet. Don't you care that you hurt it?"

"Eighty three crickets outside been tagged an named. Hopper was the big one." Beckett explained.

"You remember eighty three names, but you are unable to count past twenty?" Myles questioned.

Beckett shrugged. "Choose not to."

Myles watched Beckett work with the clay for a little while. He had no intentions of sculpting, himself. A voice sounded from the door of the lounge, providing Myles with an excuse to leave. "Ten Myles! You ought to see this," Juliet said.

Myles moved to her side. She handed him a smart phone. "I was just watching the news in the gym. I almost wasn't surprised."

An excessively flashy label at the base of the screen read _Mobile News_. Above it was a story from today's headlines.

_Robbery in Dublin. Three men, identification yet to be disclosed, detained during attempted armed robbery. Employee of local jeweler states, "I was finishing my shift. The guys, boys really, walked in swinging shotguns around. One of them locked the door, so security couldn't get in. Only they gathered all our merchandise and they couldn't open the door again." Fourth suspect seen driving a blue SUV with registration plate IRL 98-D-109820. Please call with any information._

Juliet explained, "The scenario was precisely as you explained it. It was later in the day, but the fourth hid behind the bus. It was a passenger that saw the license plate."

Myles returned the phone. "It was such a poor theory, too."

Juliet smiled. "Yet you were right. Just as you said, you're Ten Myles ahead."

"Although, even I couldn' predict the thieves would make a silly mistake."

"Aye. Although, Art-" Juliet suddenly cut off, before speaking again. "Art. I thought you weren't fond of crafts. Why are you sculpting with Beck?"

Myles gave her his best withering stare before answering. "I thought Beck'd like making a mold of his mammoth cricket."

"Right. Well, I ought to shower. Perhaps we could play a game out on the grounds afterwards? It may be cold, but the sun will be good for you. You're such a pale creature."

"You know…" Myles started in that condescending tone of his. Juliet waved him goodbye, and left before he could continue.

Myles turned to Beckett, whom was peeking into the hall. "I have some science to do. Later?"

"Science," Beckett echoed with a disapproving tone. Myles left as well, leaving Beckett alone once again.

The door in front of Myles suddenly seemed more imposing, though behind it lay nothing more than a bedroom. It was simply too fanciful to believe he could enter without Artemis knowing, even if his brother wasn't home. Of course, Myles had broken into Artemis's quarters before without consequence. Now, the room wasn't even kept locked. Myles entered and walked straight to a glass cabinet containing Professor Primate. He vaguely remembered the day nearly two years ago, when he returned to the manor and Artemis gave him the stuffed monkey without explaining why it had been destroyed. All that remained of his toy now was threads of the Professor's lab coat around the small mechanism that allowed him to talk. Myles flicked through the settings on the device, so it would record when it picked up sound. Usually, his brother would notice the change immediately. However, as Myles was well aware, Artemis often wasted effort trying not to act off of paranoia around his family.

Suddenly, Artemis's door opened. Myles replaced the tiny device quickly. "Um," he stuttered under glittering, suspicious eyes, "Aren't you sposed to be cleanin' up?"

"Less than observant, Ten. My hair is wet. I already showered." The woman frowned. "You actually thought I'd leave you two alone for more than twelve minutes? You've obviously gotten into trouble already, and we still have to see how much damage Beck has done."

Juliet exited and started toward the lounge. Myles struggled to keep up. "You're not even going to ask me what I was doing?"

"Are you planning on telling me precisely what just happened?"

"Yes?"

"Wrestlers are trained to see through bluffs, you know. Anyways, Artemis and potentially my brother can deal with you later." Juliet sounded far too cheerful for such a dire threat.

Juliet gaped in disbelief when she entered the lounge. Not only had Beckett abstained from further mess making, but he had also cleaned all the clay from the floor and was currently lounging with a grin on his face. Then a slimy, wet gob of earth fell on her head. "Now, _you _are _definitely_ going to tell me what happened."

Beckett ran.

- _Ten's Guardian_ -


	2. Chapter 2: Calamity

A/N: I apologize for the fact that this chapter, while rewritten to only follow our main character, is in many parts no different from the original. Just for this chapter, to set the timeline, I promise.

Book 1

Ten's Guardian

Chapter 2

Calamity of Fowl Manor

After cleaning up the clay, Juliet brought the boys out to play a tactics game. Now, Myles crept along a branch, in an attempt to be stealthy. He couldn't sprint without tripping if his life depended on it, but his age, miniscule stature, and thin frame allowed him to balance his weight on the smallest of footholds and most fragile trunks. If only there weren't so many insects in trees. Myles brushed another beetle off the branch with his sturdy, wooden sword. The creature's fall to the long grass below might give away his presence to his adversary, but he was willing to take the risk. That aside, Beckett was emitting enough noise for two in the bushes to the west. Actually, enough noise for two was quiet for Beck. He must be preparing.

To the east of Myles' current position, he could make out the squat stone structure marred by dark ivy marking the top of the hill. Juliet had identified the structure as the Martello Tower just before declaring herself a monarch ruling over the hill. If Myles gained access to the Tower, the title was his to share with his accomplice, Beckett.

Myles crawled toward the branches of an adjacent tree, as quiet as a mouse, though not quite as silent as the owl in flight hunting it. Nearby, he heard Juliet speak. "Beck, what have you got there?"

"Underpants," his brother answered.

Myles knocked another beetle down, closer to Juliet. She continued to speak as if she didn't notice. "Okay, Beck. Just put the underpants down, kiddo. I'll get you a clean pair."

If Juliet abandoned her post in the tower, he would win. Unfortunately, Beckett seemed to have forgotten the goal of the game. "Nope," Beck said, "Beckett is sick of stupid underpants. These are for you. A present."

Myles heard Juliet respond, closer now. "But it's not my birthday."

Beckett's voice was closer as well. "I love you, Jules. Take the present."

A branch cracked beneath Myles' hand. Juliet didn't notice and kept pleading with Beckett. "But won't your bottom be chilly?"

Beckett answered with a usual explanation. "Nope. I don't ever feel the cold." Myles stuck his sword in his belt, then left behind the oak and planted his limbs in the sturdy ivy on the Tower.

Juliet was still engaged with vocally parrying the oncoming threat. "Rabbits love old underpants, Beck. Why don't you bury them as a gift for Papa Rabbit?"

Myles felt the stone brush against his toes. He dropped and unsheathed his sword, advancing toward Juliet from behind. The distant city and the Dublin Bay were visible from this height. "Rabbits don't need underpants," he grinned, "They are warm blooded mammals, and their fur is sufficient clothing in our climate." He tapped Juliet with his sword.

Light surprise marked the woman's features when she turned to face him. "Very good, Myles. How did you get Beckett to follow your instructions?"

That was the tricky part. "I didn't give him soldier's orders," he explained. "I 'gested to Beck that his bum might be itchy."

Beck took the line as a cue and threw his underpants at them. Without looking, Juliet snatched the garment from the air. "Righto, boys," she said. "Time to go back to the house for lunch. What's on the menu today?"

Myles returned his sword to his belt. The suggestion brought a curling hunger to the forefront of his mind. He last ate before picking up the package for Beck. "I would like a croquet madame, with chilled grape juice," he requested.

Beckett proved he was distinctly less tasteful than his brother. "Bugs. Bugs in ketchup."

Juliet hefted Myles unto her shoulder once again and dropped to the Martello's lower wall. "Same as yesterday, then, boys."

The trio did not make it very far. An alarmingly brash mix of sounds joined the hush of the forest and fields. Myles stumbled back up the steps to the Martello Tower with the others on his heel. Upon reaching the top, a chill crept down his spine. Explosions- hellish light and smoke- marked the nearest road and Dublin beyond it. "Armageddon," he heard himself distantly, "The end of the world."

Beckett immediately thought of his most recent desire to travel. "Not Disneyland too!"

Juliet tried to reassure the boy. "No, of course not Disneyland."

Myles felt his heart catch. A small passenger plane, surely full of people, plummeted from the sky as Juliet and Beckett joined him.

Beckett spoke softly, showing a hint of his true disposition. "It is Harma-geddon. The world is going boom."

Juliet wrapped her strong arms around their shoulders. "Don't worry, boys. I will protect you."

Juliet produced her phone. Then the already outlandish events took a strange turn. A male creature of blatantly inhuman features- a short broad form and pointed ears- stepped from thin air onto the surface of the Tower. He was armed. "Nighty night, Mud Wench," he said. Brilliant blue light extended like an arm from the creature's weapon and engulfed Juliet. She crumpled like the old clay.

Then the sun itself fell on their heads. Raw heat and light stabbed the Martello Tower, pushing Myles, Beckett, Juliet, and the squat creature off its surface. Myles felt the ground leave his feet behind only to claim him again, several meters away. The soft grass cushioned his fall, but did not completely ward him from the disorienting impact. Clambering to his feet, Myles beheld the Tower. The very Earth was cut away and whole trees reduced to shards of wood, leaving behind a bare spire standing alone in the middle of a muddy trench. A radiant, humanoid figure hung suspended above the Tower, and other darker forms circled it.

Beckett and the pudgy creature, now unarmed, also stood. Juliet did not. Myles called a warning to his brother, "Beckett! It hurt Juliet."

Beckett's features twisted into a dreadful mask of himself, and he leaped to Juliet's defense. Myles saw him begin to beat the creature away with what appeared to be reeds. He turned away and kneeled at Juliet's side. The woman wasn't moving, but a fluttering pulse under Myles' hand showed the life in her form. Slightly reassured, he turned away from her and searched the ground for her phone. Dismayed, he snatched a piece of the device from the grass nearby.

Myles heard Beckett scream nearby. Then he was swallowed and everything turned dark. He felt foreign memories flicker on the edge of his conscious. All at once, Myles saw an entire era play out before his eyes.

-_Ten's Guardian-_

The elves called him Lieutenant Gobdaw. Myles Fowl no longer existed as war began. Before that dreadful first battle, he spent his days in the beautiful city of marble and gold embedded in the forestland- the heart of the realm of the People. Fairies called the old city Ériú. The noble elves with earthen skin and catlike eyes lived in magnificent castles at the center of the city. They were the fairy elite, marked by many masters of magic, known as warlocks. The childlike, intelligent pixies and the robust, cheery gnomes called the humble land ringing the castles home. Green sprites with crystalline wings resided in the tallest towers in Ériú, and dwarves with diamond-hard teeth ruled the deep haven below the city. On the outskirts of Ériú, the reptilian, fire-spitting goblins and the sly, silver-skinned, hairy gremlins cowered in the brilliance of the city. Just beyond the Hill of Taillte, the great sages and fierce warriors with scaled hides and spiraling horns that were demons lived on the lunar island in the sea of Oceanus. It was a blissful state of life for the elf.

Gobdaw sat to the right of Oro, the Prince of Danu, for many years of Lunar Feasts. They ate warm bread under the moonlight and toasted the bounty of Danu and the strong flow of magic with sweet drink. Gnomes ringed the feasting fairies and played heavenly tunes for all to enjoy. The Prince laughed and whispered jokes to Gobdaw. In return, he recited merry poems fashioned by a few particularly drunken gnomes. When the moon reached its peak, warlocks cast brilliant light of every shade across the night sky and weaved shapes among the constellations.

In war also, Gobdaw stood to the right of the fierce prince Oro. They faced a thousand, more, battles together. The memories of slightly-less violent battle between species of fey played out for hundreds of years and ended only for that final war, a bloody campaign against humans and their crude spears. Most significantly, it was a futile one. Memories began to blur together more.

Events clambered for attention one after another in the cinematic view of Gobdaw's life. A tussle with a vengeful troll nearly brought death for Gobdaw. The creature's ragged skin, sharp tusks, and mouthful of basic, foul language and sharp teeth made it even more nightmarish. Once, he found a garden filled with orange treasure roses, only to discover it had disappeared the following evening. The first day mudmen appeared on the horizon, the fey fell into quick disorder and Gobdaw, a magically sensitive creature, entered a state of delirium until Oro found him. Later that week, his aunt and cousins returned to the earth to live in a more peaceful place. Or be reborn; he couldn't quite remember his relative's beliefs. A hundred years earlier, conflict with the fair Queen of Pixies, Diana of moonlight, and the elven king Frond teetered dangerously close to a conflict of magic. He hadn't been able to talk to his smarmy friend, the pixie Spet, for nearly five years. Spet was always surrounded by empty glasses, and, upon their reunion, even more so, though Gobdaw couldn't say none were his. His laughter resembled the howl of an earth mad fairy and was quite heartening. Gobdaw regretted to see him in the party retreating underground, along with the least intelligent and most cowardly of the fey. Their future did not seem bright.

Most of these memories were awful, weren't they?

By some fortune, Gobdaw didn't remember his own death. He became one of the Berserkers, old spirits, whom were held in an earthy grave by the Key as a final sentry. The Key to release them had to be made of the strong, pure magic possessed by one of the eight fairies presiding on the Council of Royal Fey, the kings or queens of each fairy species. Thousands of years had passed since the Lock was made, and it was thought that any bloodlines of the Royal Fey would be too diluted to use ancient spells. The magic of present day fairies wasn't nearly as strong as it had been under the moon. This was good, because the Second Lock had extreme destructive power.

Confusion. All of these events showed out of order in an indiscernible flow, and the connections between them were unclear. Myles Fowl was a small figure amongst everything, a grain of dust in a desert. For a boy his age, had already had a very eventful life, yet it was short. Four years of memory and will existed amongst hundreds, and total possession of his body was easy. He didn't remember who he was.

Through it all, Gobdaw showed a valiant nature, often taking responsibility for the people around him. Myles Fowl, though innocent, was a similar creature. Resonance of desire to help others, both people close to him and strangers, finally brought the boy's mind to the surface, until foul hatred for humanity batted his identity away again.

The future that Myles Fowl was born into was different than the past. Even in a couple years, he had seen more places and heard more tongues than an ancient elf ever could have in hundreds of years. He'd been across Europe with his family. Even places he hadn't been were strong memories; photographs and videos illuminated the poles, the seas, exotic jungles, plains, and thousands of cities. After an indefinite amount of time, the few places Gobdaw had been all became familiar like little trinkets on one neat little shelf. His own memories stood out starkly like the potted plant sitting with those little trinkets. It was made of organic shapes and fresh smells. It changed over a day, wilting or blooming, while those trinkets remained idle for years.

The young boy regained a slight sense of self; just enough to observe and take advantage of collected information later. He was a Fowl, after all.

-_Ten's Guardian-_

He, Myles Fowl, was possessed by a very old spirit. Their minds were sharing the same space, and he saw the spirit's memories. The spirit was bound to do the bidding of the pixie Queen. Her ancestor, Diana, was a brilliant creature and used powerful magic, but Gobdaw knew nothing about the current Queen beyond her name, Opal Koboi, and that her power was tainted. Her arsenal included an ancient weapon of mass destruction only she could operate, the Second Lock. Today, it was called the Martello Tower. Any other weapons or abilities of the pixie were a mystery. Myles' host was much more familiar with the Berserkers. They were, for the most part, what remained of seasoned elven warriors from a lost era. They were very formidable in combat and their species as a whole seemed to be incredibly violent creatures. Originally, there had been four hundred spirits. Over time, most faded, and Gobdaw was unsure how many of the remaining few were actually battle ready. At least several dozen had possessed various forms found across the manor.

In sum, the opponent was an unknown. As Artemis had preached, an unknown was a curiosity. In a tactics game, an unknown was dangerous, to be avoided until daring risks were necessary. Because daring risks were necessary, the unknown should not be feared.

Of course Myles was afraid. He saw reanimated mummies and skeletal pirates through Gobdaw's mind. He saw the Prince running next to him, in Beckett's body, splattered in a few spots with blood. The invincible wrestler, Juliet, was also possessed. He saw the end of the world as planes plummeted from the sky, another unknown for which Gobdaw had no explanation. Myles would've taken the giant crickets as well as the clay in his undergarment drawer over this mess any day. But his brother, wielding intelligence, would handle everything once he got here.

Fortunately, as a young boy, he didn't have a standard for the realm of what is possible, even if he understood elementary physics- Artemis would focus on teaching him upper level mechanics when he was six, he had promised. Anyways, if he had gone on to live a normal life, or normal by Fowl standards rather, his adult self would've long since gone into shock, intellect or not. Even so, he still had some trouble with the next barrage of images.

A black luxury vehicle flew overhead and subsequently plummeted from the sky. Miraculously, Artemis Fowl Junior and Big Butler- as Beck would say- emerged unscathed from the crash site. An creature Gobdaw recognized as an elf, a substantial, live elf, also appeared in the wreckage and shot them both with space age energy bolts. Butler collapsed and Artemis looked exceptionally irritated, as though he had been pricked by a pin rather than shot. Three of the Berserker spirits attempted possession of the improbable crew and failed. Then Myles watched one of his precious brothers get eaten by the ground. He amended his early thought. He would rather be caught up in the armed robbery at the mall and slung across his bodyguard's shoulder than be dragged into this series of nonsense.

Gobdaw was also unsettled by the most recent turn of events. Modern technology and disappearing humans resistant to magic were all unfamiliar to him. Since he was sharing a mind with Myles, the boy experienced the spirit's confusion as well as his own. Myles was thrown into a stupor. He started to forget himself once more.

Then he heard Beck yell to the Berserkers. "My warriors! Our day has finally come! We will drink the bitter poison of our defeat and spew it at our enemies!"

The line barely met Beck's standards for effective speaking, let alone a seasoned leader. Instinctively, Myles questioned his brother, "Pardon?"

Beckett- no, Oro Myles realized- turned a puzzled gaze on him. "What?"

"Well, Oro," he pressed, "what does that mean exactly? Spewing the bitter poison of our defeat at our enemies?"

"Well, it simply means…" Oro attempted to defend his position. Beckett wouldn't have bothered, or would have produced an odd counter.

"Because if you don't mind my saying, using the word defeat in a motivational speech sends a little bit of a mixed message." Only a Fowl would be condescending to a creature a two thousand times his own age. Myle's possessor only narrowly subdued his argumentative nature.

His body moved with a hunting party, with the intent of slaying humans, including Artemis. He pressed consistently with argument to gain control of his limbs and in extension Gobdaw's troops. In spite of his efforts, Gobdaw soon stood in Fowl manor with a freshly armed crew. It seemed the most effective method to break into the weapons lock-up was not to steal fingerprints and a passcode but to simply steal the entirety of the person with said fingertips and passcode. Overkill.

Gobdaw was feeling a lot more comfortable with a couple weapons in his hands. As a result, Myles couldn't help from feeling relaxed. The unthinkable consequence of Gobdaw's possible success was enough to induce panic, and he didn't mind the relief. Artemis was more intelligent than this fool, and he _wouldn't_ succeed.

Gobdaw heard an explosion downstairs and hid behind a heavy workbench in the target Mud Boy's study. Shortly, he heard Artemis outside. Bellico responded with a quick arrow. Big Butler charged the two Berserkers and overturned the solid bench they had been using for cover. The mysterious elf was right behind him. Gobdaw climbed onto the bench only to be knocked back again by an explosion, thankfully losing the gun. He rudely ignored the burns and bruises on his borrowed body, climbing back to his feet. Juliet and Butler were gone. Artemis had entered, though he simply stood off to the side, unable to help in physical confrontations. But Artemis was back from the deep Earth. Everything would be fine.

Gobdaw engaged the elf in combat while bantering in Gnommish. Myles caught one or two of the words from his time spent inside Gobdaw's mind, but he didn't have the luxury of downtime to pay attention. He was trying his hardest to simply hold his limbs in place. The elf deadened one of his arms for him with a blow.

Artemis looked even more concerned when Gobdaw armed himself with a pike. "Be careful, Myles! That's very sharp."

The spirit scoffed, "Sharp is it, Mud Boy? That's the way I like my spears."

Again, the argument that spouted from Myles was merely reflexive. "It's not a spear, idiot. It's a pike. You call yourself a warrior?" The appearance of an acid tongue at an absurd time was all too similar to his elder brother, but the comment allowed a quick relapse.

Gobdaw was angered. His magic was week, and there was little he could do in the situation. "Shaddup, boy. I'm in charge of this body." Gobdaw sliced the elf and exchanged a few more lines in the foreign tongue with it.

Artemis called for his brother's attention. "Myles! The tip of that pike is steel. Where does steel sit on the periodic table?"

This time, Myle's confusion directed at the question subdued Gobdaw. "Artemis, steel isn't on the table. It is not an element, as you well know. It is composed of two elements: carbon and iron." While he was correcting Artemic, the elf handcuffed him.

Gobdaw feigned release from possession, and eventually he was unbound. Despite having total access to Myles' memories as well as a useful skill known as the gift of tongues, he couldn't pull off an impersonation of the boy. It was really quite pathetic. Myles would know to make full use of those advantages, and he didn't even have Gobdaw's experience in war. On top of that, Gobdaw was easily baited by the entertaining show from his brother.

Artemis, despite his strong adherence to high quality fine arts, was now reciting a child's rhyme. "Gobdaw, Gobdaw. Buried in the ground. Watching over sticks and stones. Never to be found."

Gobdaw then made his greatest mistake of the day. Baited by the young man, he attempted to assault Artemis instead of Big Butler, the obvious threat. Myles had little strength in his limbs, and no skill in combat could even the odds against the bodyguard, but it was worth the attempt. Yet again that day, his body was easily hefted into the air by a Butler.

Myles couldn't regain control of his body, but he didn't need to. The elf from before, Holly as Artemis referred to her, wheeled in a barrel of some foul anti-ghost concoction. She leaned in close to reason with Gobdaw, touching his borrowed face. Myles would have shivered, had he a body to shiver with. The gesture was reminiscent of Artemis, tapping his forehead. The elf's eyes, one more almond shaped and hazel and the other the same brilliant blue color as his own eyes as well as his father's and brother's. When she stepped away, Gobdaw looked back at Artemis. This time, Myles noticed his brother's eyes through Gobdaw's sight. Mirroring the elf's, his eyes were also two different colors. Was he wearing contacts today?

Blessedly, banter with Gobdaw and a sample of the anti-ghost concoction convinced him to pass on. His spirit visibly peeled away, dissolving in light. Slowly, Myle's senses returned. Immediately, he noticed that the dampness of his feet had not been properly recorded in Gobdaw's memory. He kicked them experimentally, glad to have them back, though displeased by their current state. "Artemis! Get me out of here! These are my favorite loafers! That fairy ran through the mud in my shoes. These are kidskin shoes, Arty."

Artemis commented quietly to the elf, "He's quite precocious, n'est-ce pas?"

Responding with poor French, Butler said, "Look who's talking, plume de ma tante."

Artemis took Myles from Butler and set the boy on his desk. Both of his eyes appeared blue amongst his muddy face and disheveled hair. "Very well, little man. I need you to tell me everything you remember from your possession. The memories will soon begin to dissipate. That means…"

"I know what dissipate means, Arty. I'm not three, for heaven's sake."

The elf howled at them, "Can you two get a move on? There is no time-stop in operation here. Morning is on the way."

Myles looked at the elf and her strange eyes. He waved. "Hello, fairy. You sound funny. Have you been sucking helium? Helium is an inert, monatomic gas, by the way."

The elf didn't even look at him when she responded. "Oh, he's your brother alright. We need whatever information he has in his head, Artemis."

Artemis responded familiarly, "Very well, Holly. I am working on it. Myles, what do you remember from Gobdaw's visit?"

Visit was a light term. "I remember everything," Myles proudly informed everyone. He had followed Artemis's advice and diligently evaluated his adversaries. "Would you like to hear about Opal's plan to destroy humanity, or how she plans to open the second lock?"

"I need to know everything, Myles. Start at the beginning."

"I will start at the beginning, before memories start to dissipate," he reciprocated Artemis's word choice. Then he launched into his story, carefully explaining important information as well as gaps in information rather than all of Gobdaw's strange collection of memories. The elf said they were short on time, after all.

Once his duty was complete, Myles was unable to fuel himself with determination for a second longer. Artemis carried him to his room and tucked him in, a gesture he would not have been able to extend to the heavier Beckett Fowl. Myles looked up, waiting for the usual tagline.

Instead, Artemis gave the boy his comfort object- a periodic table rather than a plush toy- and told him, "You did very well today. You can rest now. I love you, Myles." Artemis wrapped him in a hug.

Myles innocently interpreted this as a fill in the blank. He tapped his elder brother's forehead. "_Rem'ber_, Artemis. Trust your intellect!" he beamed, believing he had selected the right answer. "I love you, too!"

Instead of praising the boy for a correct answer, Artemis smiled sadly. "That's right Myles. You can go anywhere with your intellect. Just don't forget to make friends along the way."

Myles yawned. His tongue was clumsy with exhaustion. "O'course. You 'n Beck 'r my best friends. Jules too."

The boy's guide and guardian pulled away. Again, he told Myles, "I love you," before reluctantly closing the door.

Myles was already deeply enthralled by sleep, a state he remained in for the conclusion of the calamity.

A/N: Much of the Ch. 2 was written with the assumption that the material out of TLG would already be familiar. Should I edit without said assumption? Or was it fine for comprehension?


	3. Chapter 3: Lost

Book 1

Ten's Guardian

Chapter 3

Lost

The figure awoke confused after a long, deep sleep, blinking heavy eyelids. He was certain he had fallen asleep elsewhere as he glanced around the long, poorly-lit room housing several beds. A couple of the others were occupied. This must be a medicine room, he thought. Taking stock of his body, he noted that several cuts and burns had been treated and covered, including a deeper gash on his cheek, and he'd been put in fresh clothes. It was odd that he was injured at all, however.

He rolled out of the bed and landed lithely on the floor. His body felt unusually fragile. Peering through the dark at a nearby mirror, he swore in a colorful arrangement of languages, including Gnommish, utilizing the gift of tongues. He was still stuck in the body of the young boy. He frowned confused. He shouldn't be. Yesterday, he had watched himself pass on. No, the boy had watched the spirit pass on.

Then, he remembered being Myles Fowl.

Logically, Myles understood what had happened. Because of his superior memory, sharing his mind with another creature for an extended period of time allowed him to copy and paste those memories. The mind sorts through information during sleep, and there was a high probability that the particular information his mind was on when he awoke was a subset of Gobdaw's memories. This was sensible, since the elf lived for hundreds of years. Once awake, it took less than a minute for his own body to remind him who he was, to simply remember what it _felt_ like to be Myles. This was also sensible, since the most primitive part of the brain dealt with muscle memory. His body would continue to remember him regardless of spirit possession.

Before, Myles' uncertainty was readily quelled by reason. Even faced with the end of the world, he reassured himself that Artemis would fix everything with superior intellect. Logic simply didn't matter in face of this new dilemma. Myles was terrified. He forgot who he was. He had been completely lost. For a moment, it was as though the Fowls had never existed in the first place. They were nothing to him for a few breaths. Even now, he felt _old_, as though he _had _lived all those years. His very identity was in total shreds because of yesterday's events.

The terror evaporated as quickly as it took the boy. A new set of apprehension caused his knees to wobble a little. He was still totally unaware of whether Artemis had done battle with Koboi, and whether Beckett was still possessed. Returning his attention to the surroundings, Myles realized he was in the Fowl Manor infirmary. He had been in here dozens of times, after Beck had fallen out of a tree, hurt himself fencing, developed another rash from touching poisonous plants, or generally caused trouble. None of these ailments required visiting the infirmary, but Beckett enjoyed the attention.

Myles was alive. Someone moved him to the infirmary, and that someone was alive. That was positive information, at least. He turned on the desk lamp next to his bed. The light cast long shadows across the room. The first of the occupied beds held his bodyguard/nanny Juliet. She did not appear to be injured. He walked toward her, and she instinctively reacted to the faint sound of his footsteps, becoming fitful in her sleep. She did not wake, however.

Peering around Juliet, he saw a much smaller person in the adjacent bed. Myles hurried to Beckett's side. Beck's breathing was ragged and his face was pale- ghostly in the lighting- but he didn't appear to be hurt or possessed.

Myles smiled to his brother. " 'S all right, now Beck. Artemis brought you back 'cause he knows what to do. And it'll be Christmas in a few days. Saint Nick'll visit. He's actually an elf. He'll def'nitely know how much you want a pet spider, 'cause its magic. Actually, I would prefer if he didn't bring one of those hairy creatures, but you can keep it confined in its cage, right? Then it'd be pretty cool to look at under a magnifying glass." Myles talked on like that for an hour as Beckett rested, until drifting to sleep himself.

_Ten's Guardian_ -

Myles remained curled up next to Beckett well into the next day. Even though the latter had a distinctly sickly appearance from his ordeal, the former still looked more fragile, small as he was.

Myles looked all too small when he awoke and lifted his head. Again, he was confused about his identity for a breath, but he did not panic this time. He held tight to Beckett's cool hand. Blinking in the dim light, he realized three more people were sitting in the infirmary than the night before.

"Mother! Papa!" he exclaimed, jumping between a child's and adult's lexicon without any pattern, as was a standard for the boy. "Mr. Butler, too!"

Seeing him awake, Angeline and Artemis Fowl Senior rushed over to their sons. Myles was wrapped in a great hug from both sides, his parents holding tight and murmuring their love for him. Artemis Senior eventually released him, though Angeline refused to, instead sitting on the bed and pulling Myles into her lap. He could feel her shoulders shaking. Butler sat by Juliet, offering the family space by looking the other way.

"Oh, my boy! I'm so glad you are safe. We came as soon as we could," she crooned. "Butler told us all about your ordeal. It sounded awful."

Artemis Senior nodded. "Dealing with ghosts at your age, huh? I am so proud of you." Becoming rather discomposed himself, he dabbed at an eye. "You came back to us in one piece, thank god."

One piece? The boy was cracking on the inside. Even now, some part of him was stone cold, not even reacting to his parents' love.

Angeline pulled Myles around to face her. Her eyes were red and her voice solemn. "You must be in turmoil right now."

"I am."

"Talk to us about it."

Myles stared blankly at his mother. What could he say? He didn't even remember them when he woke up. That was far too harsh a reality, especially for a parent.

The Fowls were not soft; far from it. Angeline assured him, "You can tell us anything. We'll understand if you are feeling strange." The woman's voice dropped. "Actually, when you were younger, I was possessed by the soul of a pixie, myself. She was rotting on the inside, and I didn't feel like my usual self afterwards."

Myles looked to his father for confirmation of this strange piece of information. Artemis Senior nodded. "I only heard about this recently. I wasn't surprised, not really. All of us Fowls- and the poor Butlers- have been through too much for a lifetime."

Myles nodded. "Your leg. You told a grander story every time Beck asked about it. You weren't actually a pirate of the Pacific, I presume?"

"No, my son. We can discuss that another day, though. I want to hear from you."

Myles nodded again. "I feel old. Even for a fairy, I feel so old that I'm surprised I'm not rotting. Perhaps Beckett and Juliet will feel the same way. I hope not, for their sakes." Angeline hugged him again. He sounded so much older than he was, certainly. He realized, "Mama, did you say pixie? A pixie with a tainted mind?"

The woman nodded.

He hissed, "Koboi."

The woman nodded again, slowly.

Myles pulled away, to look at his parents again. "What happened to her?"

"Dead. Artemis killed her," Artemis Senior spat.

Myles blanched. His father didn't mean it, but Artemis the Second sounded like a murderer when one said it so blatantly. "Where is Arty? He must be well off- he's not in the infirmary."

The same distant expression, full of an old joy and deep sadness, so much pain, filled his parents' faces. It was marked by eyes seeing through the ages. Myles recognized the expression in an instant, from Gobdaw's dark memories. He knew a few words that came close to describing it, sorrow and saudade. Lamentation.

"No." Myles did not want to understand. For the first time, he regretted his perceptiveness. "No. No! I don't understand. I don't!" Yelling it didn't change a thing.

"No!" he yelled again. Artemis Senior was in tears now, and Angeline was racked with stifled sobs. He yelled again and again, then turned away from them and yelled to Beckett too. "I don't!"

Finally, his father grabbed both his shoulders and said, "Stop, Myles. He's dead."

Myles went limp in the man's grip. He was scooped up by his parent's again. They all cried.

_Ten's Guardian_ -

A few days passed. Tomorrow will be Christmas. The chill of the season permeated the damaged manor, but none of the season's spirit resonated with its inhabitants. Myles stood shivering in the washroom adjacent to the infirmary, wearing only undergarments and bandages. A knock on the door startled him.

Juliet's voice was muffled through the door. "You've been in there awhile. Do you need help, Myles?"

"Of course not," Myles said. After the family ate a light breakfast together, Juliet brought Myles a suit for the days' event- a private funeral. The boy already knew how to put it on, thus he certainly didn't need assistance. Actually, he had already put it on and taken it off again several times. His problem was in using the mirror in the washroom. Each time he turned to it to straighten his ruffled suit, he simply couldn't bear to look at himself in it and tore it off again.

Myles pulled on the suit once more. His twisted expression in the mirror was startling, to say the least. Previously, the only person he had ever seen with such wan yet fierce facial features was his elder brother. Moreover, Myles and Beckett never dressed formally, but a dark suit was signature of Artemis. Myles already bore a striking resemblance to his brother, but now the person in the mirror appeared much more like the deceased young man than the younger Fowl. Myles pulled his clothes off again. Before, he had considered that expression unreadable, but he now understood that was the face of a lost soul, a confused identity.

"Myles, if you need some time, just let me know. Otherwise, I'll be right out here to help you," Juliet promised.

Those sharp eyes in the mirror were also the expression of a soul that refused to remain lost. Myles tore his gaze from the reflective surface and pulled the suit on a seventh time. Without looking at himself again, or attempting to straighten his ruffled suit or hair, he threw the door open.

"No, I'm ready, Jules."

Juliet gasped, also seeing the resemblance. After a moment of hesitation, she waved it off and said, "Right. Let's get your mother then."

Angeline was sitting in the infirmary at the end of Beckett's bed. Juliet woke up three days prior, and Mr. Butler subsequently hid himself away from the Fowls. Beck, however, remained unconscious for the past seven days. An array of medical equipment made its way into the infirmary over the week. For each new device, Myles had sat and read for another several hours about its function and how to use it, referencing an encyclopedia or dictionary as often as necessary. Then he carefully explained to Beck- in layman's terms, of course- why it would help him get better. Occasionally, it seemed like Beck's expression changed a little.

Unfortunately, since Myles knew how to read the instruments, he knew that Beckett's brain was malfunctioning, rapidly firing at random.

Angeline gasped when she saw Myles in his suit, just like Juliet. She hugged Myles but quickly looked away after. Juliet informed them that Mr. Butler wouldn't be joining them. Artemis Senior joined them in the hall. They held a quiet funeral on the grounds of Fowl Manor. It was cold and everyone cried. No words of splendor could describe any aspect of the event.

_Ten's Guardian_ -


	4. Chapter 4: Christmas

Book 1

Ten's Guardian

Chapter 4

Christmas

The evening after the funeral, Juliet cooked a plain dinner for the Fowls. It was a meal of the sort to warm up a sick child without upsetting his stomach. As had become a standard in the past few years, she also ate with them. The Fowls were all quiet, but Juliet kept up a welcome narrative.

"There's actually a great story behind this recipe. I was on a secret mission in Budapest when I happened to bump into Henry the Heavy Hammer in a crowd- he's a wrestler I'm a fan of. I say 'bumped into' but I did it on purpose, definitely. A bodyguard of my caliber is always watching the surroundings carefully, after all. He said 'watch it, missy'. At least, I found out that's what he said later. I don't know much Hungarian. He was offended, so I challenged him to a match to settle the matter- he did speak English, of course. Now, Henry really thought he'd look bad if he beat up a girl. So I had to make the first grab when he refused. He was surprised by my strength, but I was surprised how nimble he was: he slipped out of my grip. We each made a few feints, testing each other. Then, out of nowhere, he got hit in the ankle by a brick! Well, I say out of nowhere, but I was watching my surroundings, and I'd guess it was a local he offended that threw it. It was a bad throw though. That's why it hit his ankle. He couldn't walk well and I kindly-" Juliet gestured with an open palm, indicating she was incredibly generous in nature, "-quite kindly walked him home. His mother, Harriet the Heavier Hammer, served us this very same meal. She said it's a secret, family recipe reserved for healing wounds of the body and heart. Mostly the heart, though."

Myles chuckled, though just twice. His parents avoided looking at him during the entire narrative. They'd barely talked to him all week. Sighing, he looked down at his plate. He was surprised to see that he'd eaten everything even though he didn't have an appetite.

Juliet took the chuckle as a signal to continue. "I wonder how long it will take for the cable TV to start working again. I'd love to see Henry on the wrestling channel sometime. Every now and then, he pulls a move where he pretends that same ankle is injured to catch his opponents off guard."

Artemis Senior shook his head. "All of the major networks are down. One or two minor networks that were never damaged are running on repeat."

Angeline addressed Juliet. "Using _Artemis's_ satellite," she said her son's name delicately and glanced at Myles, "we've been monitoring signals from any communication signals around the Earth that we can pick up. It's likely that we've missed a lot, but, so far, only a few major countries and companies, like England, have restored any satellites, I'd say."

Juliet frowned. "So there's cable in England? Since when do you do the science stuff, Angeline?"

"Ha," Angeline answered, "Did you think my sons get their intelligence from their father?" Artemis Senior coughed disagreeable. The moment of humor passed quickly, though, and the two became solemn once more. "No, there isn't cable in England. All systems are being utilized for vital functions including communication between governments and organizing aid by order of priority. I've already contacted as many parties as I could and requested medical aid for Beck, but no one could spare a doctor for just one person that isn't visibly injured. To address your original question, I do suspect news networks will soon be established to help keep the populace under control. However, cable is another story. It could be years before there is enough infrastructure for an entire channel to be dedicated to wrestling. At the minimum, sixteen months."

Myles' jaw dropped. "What- only a few nations and corporations have any remaining communication infrastructure? All over the world? What in hell did that damn pixie do? I assumed she never used the Berserker's grand spell." A moment later, his eyes popped and he threw both his hands over his mouth. "Sorry! I'm sorry. Sorry. I don' curse, ever really. Is jus' a side effect of possession."

Juliet held back a chuckle as the boy moved between the dialect of a grown adult, a toddler, and now a teenager. This time, Angeline and Artemis Senior had open mouths as they stared at their four year old son. They finally looked at him, and saw nothing but Myles. He gazed back shyly. Juliet smiled. It was a small step, but they would recover quickly enough, she thought. They were Fowls, after all.

Artemis Senior cleared his throat. "Son, where did you even hear words like that?"

"Books, I think." Myles frowned. "I don't actually remember."

"Well, I'll hardly punish you after today. Please refrain from using such coarse language in the future." Artemis Senior dismissed the topic with a wave. "Anyways, the world is in a terrible state." He shook his head sadly, deciding not to guard his young son from the details. "I cannot put this more eloquently; everything blew up. We don't know whether Koboi is related."

"Everythin'?"

"Anything electronic. Cars, computers, phones, even basic fiber optic cables. I was lucky I didn't have my cell phone in my pocket. Actually, I'm most relieved that we still have any medical equipment."

Myles paled. "I don't see how that could've been anything but the Berserker's grand spell. I didn't know it would be conducted through electronics though."

Juliet shook her head. "Koboi was stopped before she used her grand spell. I was possessed and inside the fire zone at the time. I would've known. Instead, it was some kind of short range, soul-sucking spell that went off. That's what happened to all the ghosts. I still feel a bit out-of-sorts from it. I think everything blew up before then, while we were still playing on the tower."

They were quiet for a moment. Then, Juliet added, "Artemis and Beckett were inside the fire zone also. It's not fair that I'm the only one that's doing okay."

Myles clenched his fists. After another long pause, he said, "I need more books then. If magic may've caused this, I need to know more. Modern books with refined theory would be better. Do we have any? I want to find out anything I can for Beck." He wasn't expecting a yes.

Juliet answered, "One. And it isn't exactly modern." Since the metaphorical cat was already out of the metaphorical bag, she was happy to tell everyone whatever they needed. Better yet, she could tell having a course of action will distract the three of them from their grief.

Artemis Senior nodded several times. "Of course, son, read as much as you like. Anyways, these are serious matters. You don't need to worry about anything. Your mother and I will take care of it." Dinner ended shortly after, and Mr. and Ms. Fowl tucked themselves away in their work.

Myles helped Juliet clean up- not that he could easily reach any counters or carry much. Juliet was deft, finishing quickly, and he wasn't truly needed. However, the attitude encompassing the gesture was welcomed. To Juliet, Myles seemed more well off than his parents, even though he had been so attached to his brother.

"So, Jules, what book were you talkin' about?"

Juliet smiled sadly. "It's a certain book your elder brother went through a lot of trouble to acquire about six years ago. I don't know where it is, so we'll have to look through his things. Will that be alright?"

Myles nodded. While they walked up to Artemis's study, he questioned Juliet, "Why did he want the book?" He'd deliberately kept himself busy with the medical instruments all week. Talking about his brother would be painful, but he knew he'd have to ask eventually. After all, Artemis taught Myles to always inquire- information was an advantage.

Juliet didn't answer for a while. Though she wasn't usually the sensitive type, she understood the barrier the tiny boy was letting down. She spoke carefully. "He never explicitly told me, but there were a lot of different things involved. He was stuck worse than being caught in a German suplex, and he needed a way out. Mostly, it was to find a fairy."

"Beck said fairies aren't real once. He likes fairy tales and legends, but he didn't think they were any different than the movie versions with actors on TV. Artemis always told me to think about where those tales come from, though. Do a lot of people think like Artemis?" Unlike his parents, he didn't use the name so softly.

"I don't know anyone that thinks like Artemis, except maybe you, Ten. If you are asking about whether people believe fairy tales- well, it depends on the person. You'll just have to ask when you meet new people," Juliet answered, reminiscing, "I know I didn't until I met an elf; a spunky little thing with tricky eyes; a friend of Artemis's."

Myles looked at her inquisitively. "Holly?"

Juliet spluttered, "Wha- When did you hear about Holly? Yes, her."

"It was during the _incident_; I- Gobdaw fought with her. After everyone saved me, I talked with her and Artemis." Again, he didn't hesitate to talk about his brother. He even tried to lighten the mood with a little teasing, though it was a facade. "And what do you mean 'spunky little thing'? She was taller than me!"

Juliet stopped- they were outside Artemis's room- and held her hands up in surrender. "Sorry, sorry. You caught me that time; I admit to calling you a babyface." Myles's eye twitched. "Who's Gobdaw?"

"You don't remember him? I remember Bellico."

"Who's Bellico?" Juliet asked.

"You don't," Myles returned hesitantly, "remember any of the elven warriors? The Berserkers?"

"Ah, shoot, I didn't get mind-wiped again, did I? Cause I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Huh?"

Juliet scratched her head. "Well, never mind it. Let's take things in order. We'll start with the book, and then maybe we'll watch those movies I heard about. That sounds easier than just talking about things out of order."

"Movies? Are you even taking me seriously?!" Myles yelled angrily. His parents had readily dismissed his efforts, but he expected Juliet to pay more attention. More so, he was upset that Juliet didn't remember anything. He should've been relieved for her sake, but, primarily, he felt alone in his confusion.

Juliet was counting with her fingers. "Five!" she concluded, "There should be five movies! I haven't seen them, and I don't know everything that happens in them, but I bet they'll be good. They had great reviews."

Myles yelled wordlessly in frustration and stormed off. "Fine! I'll figure things out myself."

"Huh?"

_Ten's Guardian -_

Myles had tears streaming down his face before he reached the infirmary. He truly wanted to help, but his parents had barely even looked at him and Juliet was content to just play with him as if this calamity hadn't even occurred. The powerful frustration that resulted compounded poorly with the overwhelming loss of his role model and guardian Artemis; it was simply too much for Myles-the-preschooler. He snapped, and, in an instant, the dominant qualities in his personality shifted.

Myles took out his feelings the way the Berserker would have. Storming into the infirmary, he slammed the door. He hit anything in his path and cursed foully in numerous tongues until he reached Beck's bed. He took his brother's cool hand between his own. Then he melodramatically recounted his tale of plight, seeking sympathy when he obviously wouldn't receive any from his unconscious brother.

Then, as abruptly as it started, the fit ended. Myles's knees were weak, and he sank to the floor. He cried. After a while, he remembered that he wanted to help Beckett. He wiped his eyes and climbed up to sit on the side of the bed.

"Sorry you had to hear that, Beck. I kinda lost it. Mama, Papa, Jules, and I are gonna help you, I promise. We'll think of something. 'You can go anywhere with your intellect.' That's what Arty told me. We'll think of a way to help you!" Tears were still streaming down his face.

Beckett remained silent next to him, unable to acknowledge the promise. Myles cradled his head. It ached; so did his chest. In a day, he'd lost everything. Arty and Beck were lost to him, and his parents wouldn't even look at him. He was tempted to throw himself away and lose his own personality in the new one inside his mind.

It would've been easier. To forget about the Fowls altogether. But.

Beckett was right in front of him. He wasn't dead. He was ill. Juliet didn't remember the Berserkers. She was still the same person that she was before. Myles hadn't lost either of them. He wiped his eyes again, done crying this time. He was willing to trust Juliet's judgment, and he was going to help Beck, without question.

He noticed the time. It was past midnight. He got up and retrieved two objects. The first, a large candle, was placed and lit on the nearby windowsill. The second was the package Juliet and Myles got at the shopping mall. Myles slipped the book out of the package and set it on the nightstand mixed among the medical equipment.

_An Encyclopedia of Insects and Arachnids_.

"Merry Christmas, Beck."

_Ten's Guardian _-

Three weeks passed. A pile of texts taken from the Fowl collection had accumulated around Beckett's bed. They covered a range of topics that had previously been beyond Myles' range of comprehension, before his mind had aged. He spent every minute of the day reading, and his parents really hadn't interrupted him often enough. Juliet tried often enough, though.

Topics of the texts included introductory anatomy and physiology, organic chemistry, neurology, pathology, endocrinology, and others. Many of the books had notes scribbled throughout them. Not all were in English. Particularly, through his studies, Myles had produced a list of drugs he'd recommend to counter the severe imbalances in Beck's endocrine system. That would only treat the symptoms, though. Myles wasn't any closer to the cause, though he was sure if he understood the strange patterns in the function of Beck's brain, he'd have an answer.

Today, a doctor was finally free to come out to the manor. Mr. and Mrs. Fowl hadn't taken Myles's prescription seriously, so he'd have to give it to the doctor himself. Perhaps, having Juliet give it to the doctor would be more effective. Myles picked up the clipboard with his list and went to look for the nanny-bodyguard.

He ran into Juliet almost immediately. She exclaimed, "Ten! I've finally got it!"

"Oh?"

"I wasn't able to find your brother's copy of the book, so I got in contact with a friend of mine. He was willing to trade me a copy as well as those movies I was talking about. Was I ever surprised to find out there are seven, not five! Just don't tell Angeline; I traded a rare vase of hers."

Myles sighed. "That's great, Jules, but I have an important task for you. You have to give this to Beck's doctor for me."

Juliet beamed, "No problem! Anyways, there's one little problem with the book. Well, a big problem, really."

"Juliet, I know you went through a lot of trouble, but I don't know if I have time to read novels and watch movies with you."

Juliet frowned at him. "Myles, I realize you haven't been just throwing random shots or playing around this last month. I wouldn't have spent so much time getting this for you if I didn't think it was important."

"…Really?" Myles wiped at an eye and smiled. The rare expression stretched a scar on his cheek. "Thanks, Jules. I'll look at your book then."

She nodded. "Let's go sit down." Naturally, they sat down beside Beckett. Juliet pulled a small book out of her purse. It fit in the palm of her hand and appeared to be gold leafed. "Unfortunately, it isn't in English. Or human."

Myles took it from her carefully, instantly realizing that the tiny tome was worth far more than a vase. The corners and binding were gilded in gold and the rest of the cover was indeed leafed by the precious metal. The script was printed in an impossibly dark ebony. He read the title, "_The Book of the People_."

Juliet stood. "Myles. Did you already know about the book?"

"No. Though it seems I picked up Gobdaw's proficiency with tongues. Magic is required to learn the skill, but not to use it, I'd presume. This is written in a slightly different dialect than what I'm familiar with, but it's clear Gnommish."

Juliet patted his unkempt hair- he hadn't looked in a mirror in a month. "Poor thing. At least that solves one problem for us, though."

Juliet waited quietly, and Myles read through the relatively short tome several times. He quickly tucked it in a pocket when Artemis Senior led the doctor into the infirmary. The doctor had sharp eyes tucked behind glasses and a long face. They talked for a while, then Artemis Senior left- without acknowledging Myles. Clenching his jaw, Myles gestured to Juliet to hand over the clipboard.

"Right!" She approached the middle aged man and coughed for his attention. "Hello, sir. I'm Juliet Butler."

"Nice to meet you Miss Butler. I'm Doctor Ivan Rossi. I'll assist in treating Master Fowl. I'll also bring in my team as necessary."

"Right. This is for you." She handed over the clipboard.

"Thank you, Miss Butler." He read through the document, occasionally checking items on the clipboard with data from the various machines around Beck. The process took roughly twenty minutes. Finally, Rossi looked back at Juliet. "I wasn't aware that the Fowls brought out a specialist in Endocrinology. His treatment plan is nearly flawless. I do believe I will be able to administer the requested drugs, aside from the last item on the list. I'll have to talk with the specialist first. Are you perhaps his assistant?"

"_Actually_, I am not the female assistant to any doctor. I'm the Myles's and Beckett's bodyguard."

"…My apologies. Is this boy here Beckett's brother then?" Rossi patted Myles on the head. "Poverino, don't worry. I'm here to help Beck."

Myles scowled at him. "...You can help?"

"Of course, bambino. I'm a doctor."

Myles hissed in Italian, "Please be serious with me, _Dottore Rossi_. You shall address me as Master Fowl, not _poverino _or _bambino_." For Juliet's sake, he returned to English. "You will not lie to me about my brother's health. His current condition, as you are fully aware, is completely undocumented. Thus, you are unable to provide any kind of prognosis. He may wake up tomorrow, healthy, or he may enter a total vegetative state. My elder brother already _died_ in the calamity- the Techo Crash. I am fully prepared to endure the harsh reality of Beckett's health."

Rossi frowned at Myles. "I am sorry for your loss. In that case, I'll tell you. There is actually very little I can do unless his condition worsens. It can be quite frustrating."

"And the somatostatin?"

The doctor gaped, just for a moment. He was very sharp, even for a doctor, and quickly put together the facts available to him. The tiny boy had been reading in the infirmary when he entered. Almost all of the books in the room were Medical texts. Rossi adjusted his glasses. "Amazing. These… notes… are yours, Master Fowl?"

"Yes, Doctor Rossi."

Rossi weighed the situation. Finally, he concluded, "Alright. Would you explain your choice of this hormone, Master Fowl?"

"Of course. It is my hypothesis that Beckett's mind has recorded an incorrect state of homeostasis. One example of this is blood saturation. His body is continually attempting to pour nutrients into his blood in order to remain at a specific, high saturation level, which may lead to heart failure. However, his blood doesn't saturate over a set point- the incorrect point of stasis. All of the doses are based on that hypothesis."

"I understand. Why a growth suppressant?"

Myles clenched his jaw. That was the hardest item to explain. That Rossi picked out that item as an anomaly without prior explanation, and so quickly, meant he was highly competent himself. Myles decided to be honest. "Forgive me, as this is a bit farfetched. I believe the state his body is attempting to mimic is similar to that of an adult male of a species distantly related to humans. If he's in this state for a long period of time and grows too much, his body may be further imbalanced."

Rossi nodded. "That _is_ farfetched. However, as this is an unusual case, I'll consider it." He added, "I wouldn't have accepted your work at all before the calamity, but I've seen many odd cases since."

Quietly, Myles agreed, "Haven't we all?" Louder, he said, "I do have one more request for you, Doctor Rossi."

"Of course."

"Would you mind taking credit for my work? My parents haven't regarded my studies with any seriousness, and they will, without doubt, dismiss you if they realize you are using my prognosis."

Rossi adjusted his glasses. "Master Fowl, I'd be more than happy too. A report of this depth is worth a lot for a career. I don't think that's really fair to you, though. If you'd like me to have a word with them, just let me know. I'm sure they just misunderstand. A precocious child- pardon the term- like yourself is rare."

"No. I'm certain it's deliberate. Neither of them are dull." Myles cast his gaze on Beckett. "My elder brother, Artemis Fowl II, was the same. It's likely why he's dead, and why Beckett is in this state. My parents don't want me involved." It was the first time admitting it to himself, as well.

Rossi rested his hand on Myles's shoulder. "Don't give up. A lot of people's views are changing because of the Techno Crash and its repercussions. I wouldn't be surprised if your parents come around as well."

Myles nodded. "Thank you." It was the first time he'd opened up to someone, other than Beck, since the calamity, and it was to Doctor Ivan Rossi, a complete stranger. Perhaps he was desperate. No, it was because this sharp, charismatic, Italian doctor had opened up to him first, willing to listen. He was simply too relieved that someone took him seriously.

Myles said, "There are interesting people in the world." He offered his hand.

Rossi shook his hand. "There certainly are. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Master Fowl."

"Likewise, Doctor Rossi. Now, please excuse me. I have other matters to tend to."

"Of course. Good day, Master Fowl."


	5. Chapter 5: Artemis's Saga

Book 1

Ten's Guardian

Chapter 5

Artemis's Saga

Myles and Juliet set up the video player in the lounge, which was fortunately still operational following the Techno Crash. Myles inquired, "So, Jules. What movies were so important?"

Juliet handed the box to Myles wordlessly. He gasped. The writing was in Gnommish. _Artemis Fowl_, it read in large letters. _Based on witness accounts of a true story._ Myles asked, "Just what is this?"

"Artemis is really famous in the fairy world. There is a movie series about him, all produced by fairies. I don't actually know a lot about most of his adventures, or about fairies, for that matter. This should help clear 'er up for us."

Myles and Juliet spent the next three days watching the film series together. Much of it was in Gnommish. Occasionally, human languages Juliet didn't understand were also used. Myles and Juliet often paused the films to share translations or discuss details. Each movie was less scything and more careful about its description and narration of _mudmen_, as though the writers' opinions of an entire race changed over a mere half a decade.

Together, Myles and Juliet laughed, yelled aloud at the screen, and genuinely cried. Sometimes, they couldn't even produce any of those responses and simply gaped in awe or horror. It was the most fun either of them had had in a month. Myles cried the most during the final film. It was about his brother's fight against his Atlantis Complex, as well as his fight against the elf Turnball Root. The CGI perfectly captured that fierce-wan expression Myles was familiar with. His brother had been so lost, but still completely selfless. When it ended, they sat in silence.

Eventually, Myles cried, "Arty was so cool." He sniffled. "I didn't know anything about him. I wish I could've asked him more."

Juliet hugged him. "He was so sad for so long."

Myles nodded, and choked out. "That's why he told me ta' make friends. Tha's the last thing he ever said to me, y'know." Juliet handed him another tissue. They'd already gone through a couple boxes of Kleenexes while watching the series.

When he was done crying, Myles addressed Juliet. "I think I understand a little more now. That demon that was in several of the films; his markings were familiar. He's a member of one of the Royal families."

"Sounds melodramatic."

Myles ignored her. "When they still lived on the surface, the Royal Fey were known as the most powerful and most intelligent fairies there were. The Royal Fey consisted of eight royal families, each of different fairy species. They fought consistently until they had a common enemy; humanity. That book you gave me contains rules determined by one of the Royal Fey, King Frond. It seems he was the King that united the Fey."

He continued, "He cast a spell to control the power of every single Fey in existence. A spell of that magnitude should've been really weak. The eight families were very powerful, they were on the frontlines when the Fey warred with humanity. Most of them died, and none of the remaining few undid the spell for thousands of years. That demon was able to do it, and he is undoubtedly one of the Royal Fey. Therefore, it's possible that's _why_ he was able to undo it. Only one of the Royal Fey can undo a spell cast by another, I'd guess."

"I'm not sure what you are getting at," Juliet commented.

"Koboi's grand spell had to be the same kind magic. Magic on that scale wouldn't be possible otherwise. She was one of the remaining Royal Fey. I know a bit about magic because of these memories I have now. However, I still didn't know anything about the kind of magic that hurt Beck and Arty, so I wasn't able to diagnose Beck's peculiar condition."

Myles continued, excited now. "If I'm right, all we need is one of the living Royal Fey to heal him. That demon is one, the Frond elf is another, and… and Koboi's family should contain a third. There may be more."

"But, how are we going to get a famous fairy here?"

…

All of Myles's excitement burst. "…Don't we have any phones we can reach the Underworld with?"

"Hmm. Well, I was able to get a hold of Mulch- he's the one that traded me the book and movies. He has a regular cell phone though. I'll ask him and Butler."

"Thank you, Jules."

_Ten's Guardian_ -

Myles whispered an old, elven healing prayer to Beckett in Gnommish, "May your ailments vanish under the moon light." Then he sat down nearby. He flipped through one of the books he'd found in the Fowl library while waiting for Doctor Rossi. It wasn't a medical text this time. Instead, it detailed the accounts of famous crimes, both solved and unsolved. It was likely a book of Arty's. Myles entertained himself by imagining how he would've investigated the cases. He ran a hand through his unkempt hair, thinking hard.

Rossi entered the infirmary quietly. Myles started, noticing him when he was only a few feet away, and stood. Rossi glanced at the book and asked, "Are you familiar with the Elizabeth Báthory case? Báthory, the Blood Countess, is shrouded in mystery. Today, it is unclear whether her crimes actually happened at all, or whether she was setup for the purpose of political gain."

Myles nodded, "Given the details of the case, I'd prefer the later. The former is disturbing. To think that humans can be that cruel."

"I agree. It's too bad the case was so long ago. The evidence would've been much easier to sort through in the modern age."

"Not necessarily," Myles disagreed.

They discussed modern forensic pathology practices for nearly an hour. Rossi exclaimed, "Would you look at the time? I have to meet up with one of my associates soon. Thank you for the chat. Anyways, I just stopped by to leave you the report I wrote up. Your treatment plan has been very effective; I've only made a few adjustments to the dosages. We are still far from understanding the illness, though. I… I think I may have a lead, but it's a long shot. I'll share more once I can confirm a few details."

"Of course. Take your time. Hasty work can be dangerous."

_Ten's Guardian_ -

Several days later, Juliet still hadn't made any progress. Her dwarf friend had been a dead end, himself having abandoned his connections to the Underland. Myles thought the problem over from his usual seat in the infirmary. Rossi found him there with a troubled expression yet another time. Myles jumped up and asked, "Any news?"

"Not yet. On your end?"

"I've hit a dead end myself."

"Care for me to take a look at your work?" Rossi offered.

"Perhaps not at the moment."

Rossi started taking notes on Beckett's current state, making slight dosage adjustments. Suddenly, he threw down his clipboard. "Oh my. Master Fowl, one of my associates needs to have a look at your brother as soon as possible."

Myles ran over to his brother's side and grabbed his hand. Glancing at the various monitors, he identified the problem immediately. "No. No, his heart was fine ten minutes ago." Beckett's heartbeat became erratic, skipping beats.

Rossi requested, "It looks like it took too long to start Beckett's treatment process. Can you please leave, Myles?"

"What?"

"I'm sorry. My associate needs to look at your brother immediately, and he's rather, shall we say, reclusive."

Myles frowned. "I- I can't leave him."

Rossi hesitated. I high pitched voice from the door to the infirmary made him jump. "Don't worry about it, Ivan. This _child_ has a genuine copy of our Holy Bible in his pocket."

Myles turned, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. The speaker was only about twelve centimeters taller than Myles. He was one of the fey, an elf, with signature elven features of tan skin, chocolate eyes and hair, and pointed ears. Beside him was pale gnome wearing oversized headphones, whom was rather gangly for a gnome but still a tad chubby.

The elf said, "Rossi, you didn't tell me your client was a Fowl when you asked me to take a look his medical data."

Rossi blinked, apparently also confused, "Of course not. Patient confidentiality," he said quietly. Louder, he asked, "He has a Book? I was correct, then?"

"No, you were wrong. Anyone would've come to the same conclusion as you, though." The elf walked to Myles, then started to circle around him, looking him over. "He has the expression in his eyes- as though he's lived for an eternity too long. Plus, he's impossibly smart for a human child. But he is indeed a human child, not a pixie."

Myles spluttered, "What- Rossi, explain. Now."

The Doctor shook his head. "There's no time. Please let my associates look at your brother."

Myles clenched his jaw, and stood down. Of course, Rossi lost his trust, but he didn't have a choice. "Fine. Please hurry."

Beckett's heart could fail at any moment. The pair worked efficiently. The elf gave step-by-step instructions while the gnome did all the work. Myles was surprised to see them use human tools as well as magic. After twenty minutes, they stepped back.

The gnome croaked, "Heart is good."

Myles sighed, relieved. He was wary, though, and didn't hesitate to demand of the doctor, "Explain Rossi."

The doctor smiled sheepishly. "Your prescription was simply beyond the thinking of a human child. When you yourself hinted that Beckett's condition was connected to the supernatural, I could only assume you were older than you looked. I thought you must be a pixie."

Myles's voice was steely. "_The elf and the gnome_. Explain why you brought the fey anywhere near this household!"

"Oh! These are my associates. I wanted to see whether they would be able to help Beckett. They did."

Myles cooled down. Slightly. "Fine. And why do you have connections to the Underland?"

Rossi laughed. "Oh, just chance really. I was working at a small hospital in Italy during the Techno-Crash. Volunteers rescued and brought in any citizens in critical condition. A few teenagers found five injured fairies and didn't hesitate to bring them in. Four of them healed on their own, but I treated this elf. We've been working together to help all the people injured during the incident ever since."

The elf offered a hand to Myles, whom cautiously accepted it. "Chey Target, first class elven waiter, at your service."

Myles answered in Gnommish. "Myles Fowl. Though you probably know who I am. I thank you for your help, but I won't let any underhanded tricks past me. Are we clear, elf?"

Chey took a distinct step back. "Sheesh, the Fowls really are scary." He elbowed the gnome.

The gnome pulled off his headphones. "R-Randler. Pleased to meet you."

Myles nodded to him.

In English, Chey told Rossi, "The Fowls are famous in the Underland. Their eldest on his own had repeatedly beat the crap out of the most intelligent, powerful, and resourceful fairies in various conflicts. He's a bit of a villain, but he's saved my home several times. I'm grateful, but I'd really prefer if he's not around."

Myles shook his head sadly. "You're in luck, then," he spat, "Koboi killed him."

"Oh. That really sucks."

"…Really."

Rossi, not oblivious to the tension, decided to comment. "Life is funny, isn't it? I was one of the first private physicians ready to take cases because I had fairies helping me work efficiently. And you were likely one of the first people to request a private physician because of fairy technology. I had wondered about that- your parents contacted me with a fully operational and powerful communication system. I believe I understand now."

Myles gave him a long look and decided Rossi was being honest. "…So, you're indicating this whole situation isn't really a coincidence, but there isn't foul play at work? Even though the odds against such a situation are astronomical?"

The doctor adjusted his glasses. "You could put it like that, I suppose."

Myles wanted to distrust them. Internally, he teetered on a knife's age over an abyss. A fairy had caused the Techno-Crash and brought him so much pain, but these particular fairies- appearing miraculously- had just saved his brother. He had yet to find his balance, but he conceded, "Alright. I'll accept a blessing when it comes my way. Actually, I've been seeking assistance from the Underland fo the past few days. I do believe my brother's condition is the result of a spell. Would either of you be able to confirm this?"

"Of course! I'm here to help. Oh, call me Chey!" The elf threw an arm around his shoulder, all too comfortably, and steered Myles toward Beckett's bed. A ruffle on his sleeve brushed against Myles's cheek. "Nah, Myles, why do you reek of rotting magic? It's really _foul_, if you will."

"Pardon?"

Chey let go of him and climbed onto Beckett's bed. He leaned over and smelled Beck. The gnome watched silently. Myles said, "Oi, what are you doing?"

Chey pulled away from Beck and dropped back to the floor. "Great gods, he smells even worse. There was a hint of something fresh and minty though too." Chey leaned close and sniffed Myles again. "There's a bit of the mint smell on you too. I didn't notice before. What _is _that exactly?"

"Pardon?"

"Even though I'm an elf, I have almost zero affinity for magic. However, I am _exceptionally_ sensitive to magic. I can feel it with all of my senses; it's sharpest through my nose. Sight is often more helpful from a distance, though. You have a faint, black fog around you. It got thicker when you got angry. I've never seen anything like it before. You Fowls are pret-ty weird."

They all sat and Myles decided to bet on these fairies and the Italian doctor and run a background check later. He explained the Berserkers and the conflict with Koboi to Chey and Rossi. Randler may or may not have listened. When he was finished, Chey commented, "So that's why I've never seen that before; it's old magic that hasn't worn off yet."

Myles asked, "Are you sure about that? You can't think of any times you've seen something similar?"

"Oh, I've definitely never smelled magic that rotten. Goblins smell nasty, but they aren't rotten. As for the fog… Perhaps. Usually magic takes distinct shapes, but I saw a sprite with a thick green fog hanging off of her wings once."

"What about Lili Frond? Have you ever met her?"

"Of course I've met her. I'm a suave elf; I'm invited to the cool events. Although, I won't say she's worth the time. She has an even lower affinity for magic than most humans, which is next to none in the first place. I doubt she's actually royal blood. There was likely some naughty conduct somewhere down the bloodline."

Myles cleared his throat. "Humans have an affinity for magic?"

"You used the gift of tongues yourself, dumbass."

Myles frowned, not arguing. He was tempted, but when it came to his brother, he'd willingly grovel on his hands and knees- and of course forgive rude behaviour. "Right. How familiar are you with the royal bloodlines?"

Chey scratched his head. "The royal bloodline? Well, Frond is a fraud. That's about it, really."

Myles frowned, confused. "No. I mean all eight royal bloodlines, the Royal Fey."

Chey just looked at him. "Nope. Only ever heard of the Fronds."

"But what about the others from the Fey golden age? Pixie Queen Diana, Quibbler the Archmage of the demons, Dwarf Lord Lichen, Gnemmor the Saintly Artisan, Scritchy Nilbog, Airron the Swift of the sprites, and the Wise Queen Marionnette of the centaurs! You've never heard any of those names?"

Chey blinked. "Should I?"

"Of course! The last elf I talked to even knew whom the captain of the Berserkers was! The Royal Fey were much more important than him, and they were from the same era!" Myles narrated several of the heroic tales from his memories, detailing their accomplishments.

Chey interrupted Myles suddenly. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. What are you implicating there? The elves and centaurs didn't get along? Since when?"

"Didn't get along? That's a bit too kind. They were at war for years! They clashed in politics for centuries!" Myles stood up, exasperated. They were getting more and more off topic rather than figuring out how to help Beck.

Chey also stood up. "Don't you dare say such a nasty lie about the People! We were at peace until we fought a war with the mud crawlers. We're more civilized than you."

Myles looked Chey in the eye. His voice dropped to a whisper. "Civilized? Then who blew up the world? Humans have done it in the past, I admit that. But this is on a scale of its own." So much for 'willing to grovel'.

Chey sank back into his chair. He looked down at his folded hands. "I know. That's why my friends and I have stayed on the surface, helping the injured. We… want to deny that a fairy could be like that, or accept that Koboi was an anomaly." He sounded desperate.

Myles nodded. He'd said the same thing recently. Back to groveling. "I'm sorry, Chey. I didn't know that your history had been rewritten so drastically. Thank you for helping Beckett."

They were both quiet. Rossi spoke up. "So what? Maybe there are cruel people. You're better than them, Chey. I watched you help so many injured people this last month! Even though you don't know any healing magic! Even though you might get in trouble with the fairy government for it. That's enough, isn't it?" Rossi's voice steadily rose. "You too, Myles! Don't doubt yourself! You've pushed yourself just for your brother."

Myles rubbed his forehead. "Tch. I barely know any of you simpletons, and you've got me worked up."

Chey made a similar gesture. "Well, Myles, even if you're a tad snarky and you reek, you've convinced me to help you. Just tell me what I can do."

"I believe I need to find and convince one of the surviving Royal Fey to heal Beck. Keep an eye out for any fairies that stand out. In the meantime, books about magic and fairy medical practices would be very useful. Can I trust you with that? You two look a bit young, for fey."

Chey nodded eagerly. "That's right, a _teenager_, you'd call us. We've already been smuggling the very same books plus some fairy medical equipment to Rossi. We'll just double the order, no biggie." He elbowed Randler. "Right, Randy?"

The gnome pulled his headphones off. "P-pleased to meet you."

_You can go anywhere with your intellect. Just don't forget to make friends along the way._

A middle aged physician and two eccentric, adolescent fairies made for odd allies, but it was a start. Myles summoned Juliet to make tea for the company. She wasn't even surprised to see the fairies. Together, the five of them shared a warm beverage and chatted idly, and their first meeting ended in peace. It was a unique experience in the history between the races, only possible because of the progress Artemis made.

The Berserkers and many fairies after them had despised humanity. These creatures, spending their effort healing humans and sharing tea, didn't. Myles finally knew how much his brother had done for the world.


End file.
